The Tape One Shot
by Calamity in Motion
Summary: What seems to be another of the Joker's hostage tapes turns into something COMPLETELY different. Harley/Joker Warning for Smexin'


**If the Joker and Harley had a sex game…**

**I couldn't help myself, I had a dream about this. Strangely enough, it was in the form of a crappy video tape, like I was watching it with Gordan or something. Funny, crazy stuff. Then my friend and I were talking about how thrilling it would be to have a Mr. and Mrs. Smith relationship with someone, where you could beat the living shit out of each other and have crazy sex in the ruins of wherever you've chosen to do so. (We're kind of _odd _women)**

**All's I can say, is my dream looked wicked _fun._**

**_PS- I definatly want some feedback on this one!_**

**_Points to anyone who who knows where the strip club is from!!  
_**

The tape had been sent to every news station from Gotham to Metropolis before it made its way to Commissioner Gordan's desk. It had taken a lot of yelling and threats, but he'd gotten them all to agree not to show the thing until Gotham PD had had time to review it.

He'd also promised a comment or two for the sake of their segments, which hadn't hurt.

"You watched it yet?" the officer spun toward Gordan in his chair, the smile on his face far too chipper for Gordan's taste. The station kiddies (as they called the new cops) had all been eager to watch the thing. Whispers about it had filled the station since he'd gotten there.

"I've been putting it off." He responded lifting the plastic jewel case that held the video. The original tape had been locked away in evidence. Gordan glanced around at the officers all pretending not to look at him as he gave a weary sigh and slid the disk into his computer. The giddy officer beside him flipped on the projector and someone dimmed the lights without having to be told.

Everyone was so _helpful_ today.

Gordan crossed his arms, taking a deep breath and as he exhaled, all sound from the rest of the station seemed to disappear.

The camera faced a dirty cement floor. Rags and newspaper pages were scattered carelessly about. The lighting was dim and Gordan could almost hear the buzz of the single florescent light above them. When the camera moved it was shaky, the sound garbled and loud then it settled again on someone tied to a chair.

A girl.

Her hair was dark and matted, shielding a good portion of her face, but what Gordan could see of it was bruised. He couldn't be sure of it, but the injuries looked old, already yellow from healing. Whoever she was, she'd been there long enough for the Joker to beat her_ before_ this taping.

"Tell them your _name_." His sickly sweet voice floated across the fuzzy audio and Gordan's jaw clenched. The girl sat a little straighter, glancing at the camera then away, trying to hide her face.

"M..Mandy." she whimpered, she had the slightest hint of an accent, like she'd lived in Boston or the Bronx. The girl tried to pull at her bindings, but her hands had been tied tight.

"_Man-dy_?" The Joker repeated somewhat insultingly. The girl's big blue eyes narrowed and she glared at him. Gordan secretly commended her bravery.

"Yes, **Mandy**. My _mother_ gave me that name."

The Joker stepped out from behind the camera, sans his normal purple coat and gloves, and giggled. "Whatever you say, _toots_." He looked back at the camera, checking to see if he'd set it right, then moved to her side. He reached out, making her flinch away, and brushed the dark, tangled hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"So, **_Mandy_**, you want to tell the folks at home what you _do_ for a living?"

"I'm an accountant." She said. Her eyes followed him closely as he circled her chair. She leaned the opposite way of wherever he stood. The Joker paused to her right, frowning slightly.

"That's _boring_." He stated. The girl frowned as well, her eyes went to the floor and she shifted nervously in her metal chair.

"When it pays the bills, you do what you can."

"What_ else_ can you do?" he asked, inspecting a small steel cart, like the ones in hospitals. On top of it were an assortment of tools, hammers, picks, knives and a few powertools. His brushed his fingers across the handle of a slender knife and tossed it from one hand to the other. The girl licked her lips, eyes on the glinting metal.

"Well…um…when I don't have any choice I work at _Grin and Bare It_. That club off Lexum, in the Narrows."

"The **strip** club?" The Joker asked, catching the blade in his right hand and turning his attention back to her, brows furrowing heavily. She nodded, looking almost ashamed. Her head hung a moment.

"Like I said, you do what you can."

"So you're an _accountant_ that moonlights as a **stripper**?" He sounded unconvinced and Gordan frowned. Something was weird here. The girl looked back up at him and nibbled her bottom lip. "Can't say I've heard **that** one before. Don't you think those two professions are a _bit_-"

"Unmixy? What, you don't_ believe_ me?" she interrupted as someone in the station cleared their throat. "It's _possible_. Some people have layers."

"And _some_ people just aren't very quick on their **feet**." The Joker replied. This seemed to make sense to the girl because she sniffed and turned her head away.

"You asked, mister. You don't like it, maybe you should go find some other victim and-"

"Oh, calm _down_." The Joker actually rolled his eyes. The girl huffed, shifting again in agitation against her bonds.

By now Gordan knew this was strange, and by the confused expressions of his fellow officers, so did they. This Mandy was the calmest of anyone he'd _ever _seen in one of the Joker's tapes. Usually there was nothing but screams and begging and tears, but she didn't seem the least bit afraid of him. Not _really_. She flinched here and there, but overall she was composed.

Too composed.

"**So**, Mandy the Stripper-accountant, _tell me_. What do you **think** of your current _pre-dicament_?" The Joker set down the knife to roll up his sleeves to the elbows as the girl watched him. Her expression seemed wary enough, but Gordan couldn't shake this feeling that this wasn't just any tape from the crazed clown.

"Well, I don't really_ like_ it." She grumbled, "My wrists hurt and I think you popped my shoulder out of place…"

The Joker arched a brow, then reached for his knife from before, tapping the flat of the blade on the top of her head. "So you aren't _enjoying_ yourself?" She shook her head with a heavy sigh. "_Hm_. Guess I'll just have to make it more interesting."

Mandy yelped when his blade plunged down between her breasts. With a quick jerk, he tore through the thin dirty cotton and her shirt fell open to her navel, exposing a black satin bra. The girl tried to yank her arms free again, but couldn't and the Joker laughed. The sound bounced around the dingy concrete room, filling the audio until it was garbled and staticy.

"I don't remember this part of the interrogation." The girl glanced down at her ruined shirt then up into the camera. The clown flipped the knife up into the air and caught it with a wide grin. Then he stepped up behind her and took a fistful of her dark hair. She jerked her head back with a grimace, opening her mouth the say something, then went very still when his knife pressed down against her exposed throat. With the tiniest movement, he could kill her. This thought seemed to drain the spunk right out of her and she made a soft whimpering sound.

The Joker's smile had brightened as he gazed down at her. When she shifted nervously beneath him, he flicked the blade to the left making her gasp. A moment later a thin line of blood formed at the curve of her neck, shallow, but very real. It gathered as she swallowed, mixing with the sheen of sweat quickly forming over her skin.

"Still _boring_?" he asked, the amusement obvious in his voice. The girl blinked her wide eyes and swallowed again, a reaction to the feel of the knife. Unwilling to shake her head and risk another cut, she managed to squeak out a response.

"N..no."

"_Oh_ **good**." He smiled. His fingers slid out of her hair and drifted down to her shoulder, then further. She whimpered again as his hand pushed into the cup of her bra and squeezed tightly. Gordan cleared his throat, jaw clenching.

Of all the things he was forced to see on the job, he would have paid not to witness a rape. Especially one he had absolutely no chance of stopping. If that's where the Joker took this, and it seemed very likely, then it had already happened. Possibly days ago, and there was no hope for Mandy. A sickness crept into his gut, but he kept on watching.

"So, **_Mandy, _**tell me, and feel free to be _honest_, what are you thinking** now**?"

Her eyes glistened under the florescent light and Gordan could only assume it was because of tears. The Joker's hand had moved back out of her bra, but his blade was making light strokes across her throat.

"I think this might be a little unfair." Her voice was a bit shaky, her eyes dancing between his mangled face and what she could see of the knife. The Joker frowned a bit at that and titled his head.

"_Oh_?"

"Me being all tied up." Here she forced a nervous laugh, "Don't ya think it might be more interesting if you gave me a fighting chance?"

"Why?" he asked flatly, then chuckled, "Are you _scared_?" The blade pressed a bit harder into her throat and she tried to flinch back. Unfortunately, with the clown standing right behind her, there was nowhere to go.

"I don't think I like this game anymore, Mr. J." she said weakly and the Joker lost his smile.

Beside him, Gordan noticed the officer go very stiff. A few other cops did the same and murmured started below the sounds of the girl breathing heavily.

"_Mr. J_?" the officer muttered, then his eyes narrowed. Gordan's arms dropped from his chest to brace again the desk in front of them.

"It can't be.." he said in disbelief. It just didn't make _sense_.

"Now, now, **_Mandy_**, you started this. Play by the _rules_."

"Well..is there some kind of _safe word_ or-"

Mandy yelped when he stepped around her and backhanded her hard enough to rock the chair. Her head snapped to the side and she drew a shaky breath. When she looked back at him, it was with a mix of surprise and fear. The Joker bared his teeth, and grabbed her by the torn bits of her shirt, lifting her to meet his eyes, though she tried very hard to pull away.

"**Safe** words are for _babies_." He said this very evenly and she was quick to nod her sudden agreement. His blade made a slow, trail down between her breasts after he released her again, leaving thin lines of red in its wake where he pushed too hard. She winced at this, lips squeezed tight, but after a moment couldn't hold the silence.

"_Please_…" her voice broke and he stared down at her, expression unreadable. "Don't kill me."

Very suddenly, the Joker laughed and raised the knife, but on its arc down, it disappeared behind the chair. A moment later, the girl pulled her hands free, glanced up at him and sucked in a pitiful little half-sob. For a long moment, she couldn't decide what to do until the Joker leaned down, getting right in her face and dropped his smile.

"_Run_." He said and the girl shot up out of her chair, shoving him back. The Joker let out a peel of laughter and after regaining his balance turned toward her. Mandy took two steps back, moving to the edge of the frame and held up her hands in a placating manner.

"Now Puddin'…" But the clown didn't seem to be listening. He flipped the blade up into the air with a giggle before his eyes snapped up to meet hers. That seemed to be answer enough and she spun around to dash off the screen though not fast enough to miss the Joker fisting the ends of her hair and ripping it back.

Her _entire_ head of hair.

"It was a wig?" Someone said astonished, but Gordan was ignoring them, too focused on the sounds of a rattling door and screams just out of sight of the camera. He could only assume that she was trying to leave the room, but the door was locked. A moment later, the Joker was hauling her back into frame by long blond hair and she was kicking viciously on the dirty ground.

"Is that…"the officer beside Gordan squinted and glanced up at his boss. "_Quinn_?"

Gordan didn't respond. Was this the end of the twisted couple? It would make sense, his sending out the tape. But why would the Joker kill his adoring little hench-woman?

"Please Puddin'! I'm sorry!" she cried as the Joker hauled her to her feet. "I won't do it again, whatever it was! I swear! Just don't-"

He slapped her again and she bit off the rest of her wailing with a groan. When the Joker lifted his knife however, she shrieked again and slapped it away. The blade caught her fingers as it flew from his grip, but she didn't pay it any attention despite the blood. Instead, she hauled back and punched him in the gut.

The Joker grunted, the sound twisting into a sort-of laugh. When she drew back her fist to do it again, he snatched her wrist and spun her into his arms, pressing her back into his chest. Harley screamed again, thrashing in his arms. Her feet flew up into the air, crashing against the steel hospital cart and spilling it's contents to the ground. Still laughing, the Joker fisted the back of her head and slammed it down against the carts surface.

Harley sagged in his arms, groaning again while the clown tossed her over the cart and grabbed the remains of her shirt. Cackling, he ripped it completely off, and flipped her over. The girl blinked her huge blue eyes at him and opened her mouth to scream, but he slapped a palm down over her mouth. Narrowing her eyes, she bit down hard enough to make him jerk back out of surprise. Before he could recover, she'd drawn up both booted feet and planted them into his chest.

Some of the officers cheered when they saw the Joker go down on his back, but not Gordan. He watched intently as Harley rolled off the cart and onto the floor, sobbing, and grabbed randomly at the scattered weapons. Her fist closed, white-knuckled around an ice pick and she turned, jumping on top of the Joker before he could get back up.

She raised the pick high above her head to a chorus of excited shouts from the officers, but as it shot down toward him, the Joker dodged and the steel chipped cement instead. Now bent awkwardly forward, she couldn't escape the punch that hit her square across the jaw. Again she sagged, and the Joker took the opportunity to roll them, and pin her arms to the ground. Both were breathing raggedly as the clown let out a burst of breathy laughter.

"_Tha_-**t**...was **close**." He giggled and Harley fought to buck him off. The clown's eyes moved to her weapon, still in hand, and he lifted the offending arm before slamming it back onto the concrete. She managed to hold on for two more of the same assaults before the ice pick went skidding across the floor and the girl was left vulnerable again.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed, as he gazed steadily down at her. His smile was amused and cold. "Please don't hurt me Puddin'. _Please_?"

But he wasn't listening anymore and juggled her wrist into one hand. His free hand moved down to the hem of her ratty brown skirt and forced it up her thighs. Almost instantly her sobs became sniffles and she blinked in confusion.

"Puddin'?"

The Joker's eyes narrowed and he shifted to slap her again, hard enough that it split her lip and she yelped again. As she gulped down air and fought not to cry, his hand returned to her skirt.

Gordan grimaced as Harley suddenly began to fight a knowing smile.

"No!" she cried, though it wasn't quite as heartfelt as before. She rolled her body to the side, and the Joker tumbled over with her. Now free again, she flipped onto her stomach and attempted to crawl away as the Joker grabbed her legs and dragged her back.

He knelt above her, his knee planted on one side of her thighs, and his dress shoe on the other. She struggled as the clown forced both her arms up behind her back and held them there, pulling off his tie with the other hand. Seeing what he planned, Harley cried out, and tried to thrash out of his grip, but he'd already started wrapping her wrists with the neck tie. He knotted it quickly and flipped her over again, smiling heatedly as she groaned.

"Puddin' my _shoulder's already-_!" she complained, but he covered her mouth.

"I remember." The Joker replied, snatching up the remnants of her shirt and stuffing the material into her mouth.

She glared up at him as the clown leaned out of frame to grab something of the floor. Harley's eyes shot wide when she saw it was his knife. Ignoring her muffled protests, he slit the edge of her skirt enough that it ripped in two when he yanked it. Then he pinned both her arms again.

"_Oh my god_…" one of the female officers near Gordan breathed clutching her shirt. He glanced back to catch her blush, not thrilled by the light in her eyes. Other officers seemed completely disgusted, like he was at this apparent _game_.

Because that's what this had been from the beginning. These sick bastards were playing with each other and despite Harley's struggling and muffled curses, the moment the Joker moved down over her, she stilled, grinning around her gag. At this point the Joker didn't seem to care that she wasn't playing along anymore, and reached between them to-

"Turn it **off**." Gordan snapped, shoving away from the desk. He ran his fingers through graying hair as the officer scrambled to comply.

On the screen, Harley's forced cry hitched and she arched up under the clown, one slender leg wrapping around his back. Her moan was obvious, even behind the gag and she turned her head to the side as the Joker moved his hips against her.

The screen went blank, leaving the station in an awkward silence. Gordan looked around at the officers, clearing their throats and shifting from foot to foot. The female officer that had bee so fascinated, lowered herself slowly into a chair, and idly tried to fix her hair, face red. Another male officer choked on his laughter, and shrugged to his buddy.

"Guess _that_ question's answered."

"What's that?" the other cop replied.

"Quinn is the clown's se-"

"This doesn't get out to the news stations." Gordan barked, furious and disgusted and a thousand other things he didn't have a name for. He snatched the disk from the computer as fast as it would come and snapped the jewel case closed. The officers mumbled yeses to him as he stormed out of the room and into his private office to start making calls. This couldn't get out. There was no need, it was only perversion, and this city had enough of that already.

The news stations however, did not agree.

**xXx**

Harley tried to make herself feel better with chocolate and wine, but there was just no raising her sour mood. Possibly one of her best ideas_ ever_ had gone down perfectly, only three nights ago.(Ok, so maybe it wasn't that perfect, but it had_ ended_ well enough) She was still a bit sore from the whole ordeal. But thanks to the sticky fingers of a greedy thug employed by the Joker, it had all been ruined.

All she'd wanted was a little fun-time, with her Puddin'. He was so stressed lately that he hardly paid attention to her save the occasional shout or backhand, but sometimes a girl needed more. It had been so perfect. Mr. J relieved a bit of stress, _she_ finally got him the way she craved and better yet, it was all on film for later viewing.

Then Martin had found it and decided to make a little extra cash by selling the thing to every fucking news station to Metropolis! Now her Puddin' was furious and wouldn't let her touch him. She'd been sleeping on a ratty couch in the docking garage for the last couple days. And apart from backaches and a little itchiness from crap-fabric, she just _missed_ him.

Another agonized scream echoed down the drafty halls from deep in the compound. Martin learning the error of his ways since fear had made the other thugs finger him almost immediately. Right now, the Joker was making a new tape, one he said would remind everyone just what he was all about, but something told Harley that it wouldn't be enough to get him acknowledging her again.

And he **definitely** wouldn't be taking a ride on his Harley any time soon.

As another blood-curdling scream filled their dank hideout, Harley sighed, resting her chin in her palm.

Some things just weren't fair.

**So, what did you think? **

**Oh that tie of his -dreamy sigh-  
**

**I had a beta reader for this one and she didn't understand the 'quick on their feet' comment._ I_ thought it was obvious, but just in case: This is the Joker making fun of the _ridicules_ background Harley has made for her victim persona. He wanted this to be as real as possible, and a Stripper-Accountant definitely does not sound _real_.**


End file.
